Pearls of Debauchery
by joshxcraig
Summary: Always beautifully subdued, Lady Galadriel seeks to liven her life up a bit with the help of three exquisite elven men.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I DO NOT under any circumstances claim ownership of any characters, references, or coincidences herein and make no profit from this publication._

**Pearls of Debauchery**

She veiled her creamy shoulders with a sheer cloak and exited through the doubled paneled doors towards the forest beyond. He could see her glowing breasts incased within the velvet bodice beneath, and her ripe and dimpled derriere as she ghosted past the dew covered willow shading the silver pond at the center of her personal Eden. At the bench beside its shore she perched herself, and there the moonlight beamed down to caress the generous length of her shapely legs, her oval face as she upturned her pink pout towards the heavenly light. Golden hair spilled along the curve of her back as she did so and every strand, every lash, shimmered rapturously.

She was a vision that never escaped the memory of anyone fortunate enough to look upon her. Lord Celeborn could sense this in his Marchwarden the very next day.

"…to me Marchwarden?" Retracting his hand away from the map strewn out across the wide span of his lectern, Celeborn knocked on the lacquered wood in attempt to rouse him. "Forgive me if I bore you, but I had hoped to brief you only once."

Haldir nodded and forced himself to listen. Celeborn swept an elegant hand across the map as he searched for his abandoned thought but to no avail. After a moment he dismissed the briefing altogether and offered no more on the matter.

"Forgive my inattentiveness, sir. Please, continue."

"It's truly not important, Haldir. Go, tend to your duties. " Rolling up the map and stacking it neatly with the others, Celeborn retreated to the adjacent salon to sit and nurse a cup of his favorite seasonal spirit. Perhaps then he could ponder the ailments that plagued his Marchwarden…as well as his beloved wife. Although both cases concerned him dearly, his wife's was distinctly more alarming given the nature of its impact on her sensuality. She had always been a very elegant, sexual creature but as of late she stunned him with the manner in which she blatantly displayed her figure. Rather than her floor length robes, she had been opting for shortened skirts, hugging bodices, and sheer cloaks. To bed, she often went completely without. In all honesty, her choices absolutely elated him. She was naturally a tender companion and he made love to her often, but many a time he found himself wishing that she would inspire between them a primal _fuck_. Although he could very well initiate such debauchery, desiring her to make the first move was more than half the thrill. In his mind, there was nothing more delectable than a sexually domineering woman. Beautifully subdued, such behavior from Lady Galadriel would undoubtedly be his undoing and he reveled in those very imaginings. Only problem was, she hadn't seemed to be taking an interest in his reactions when he caught her walking about half clothed in broad daylight, or lounging about naked on one of the settees in the library. This made him suspect that she awaited a reaction from somewhere beyond the confines of their marriage bed.

Celeborn frowned. Grabbing the crystal bottle roughly by the neck, he filled his chalice to the brim and numbed the sting in his pride quickly thereafter. By the time Haldir came around to call upon him, darkness had fallen, and the deep stain he found on his Lord's beautiful lips would be the first indication that trouble was certainly approaching.

"Leave him."

Haldir turned; evidently startled by the manner of which his azure eyes darkened at the sight of her luscious figure just inches from where he stood. He could smell her unique fragrance as he respectfully bowed his head. "As you wish," he said, and stepped aside.

"Linger a moment, Haldir?" She covered her husband warmly with a blanket and Haldir watched her place twice a lingering kiss to Celeborn's mouth. The wine was exquisite. "Something troubles you." Turning, Galadriel gazed steadily up at him and from behind the thick canopy of pale lashes he could see she silently yearned for more than conversation.

"May I speak freely, Lady?"

"By all means, please do." She stood rather quickly and hushed him, her breasts grazing him. "But please, not here… Come." Taking his hand, she led him out into the moonlit hallway, through the conference hall, and out into the garden to sit on a familiar marble bench.


	2. Chapter 2

The chill of the evening made her nipples peak through the silk of her nightgown. They became equally as firm as the pearls strung around her graceful neck. Every fine detail he had previously overlooked seemed to come alive before him in the moonlight, like the runes on Thror's Map. The fabric fell away when she crossed one leg over the other, and Haldir watched the pink flesh of her upper thighs texture and her lips and cheeks become ruddy with blood and the heat forming within. Heat, Haldir thought, most definitely.

Reaching over, she touched her fingers to his and smiled delicately, "You were saying, Marchwarden?"

"Lord Celeborn is ill with anxiousness. He takes to the cup nearly every evening now and hardly speaks a word at all, not even to his loyal Marchwarden."

Galadriel's face showed no sign of disenchantment. "My husband carries the weight of our world on his shoulders, Haldir. It comes to no surprise to me that his soul falters from time to time."

"I must respectfully disagree, Lady. He and I together have mastered distributing that weight equally between the two of us." Haldir's gaze steadied upon hers, "This sadness that plagues him, I know, pertains to something beyond the scope of our society's royal obligations."

"Does it?" Galadriel interpreted his stare and narrowed hers, "And yet the flesh between my thighs is warm and there you wish to slide your chilly fingers?" Galadriel tilted her head and ever so slowly began parting those objects she spoke of, "Do you and your Lord share the same ailment?"

Haldir touched the tips of his fingers to the sides of her pretty knees and Galadriel's lips formed in silent surprise. "Albeit this desire to spread these as widely as they can be spread and bury my head between them, I must dutifully decline."

Galadriel grasped his wrists and leant in closely, her nose brushing his while she purposely warmed his lips with her sweet breath. "And if I bound you to it by my word as your Lady? Will you dare defy me?"

He smirked, "To preserve the integrity of my Lord, your _husband_, I most certainly would." Cupping her knees, he forced them shut and stood upright but she sharply reached up and forced him to attend to her again by revealing a rather provocative proclivity.

"I've watched you take a whore," she whispered, evil mirroring that of Sauron's glittering in her eyes at the very sight of his powerful thrust steering iron into that girl's precious port. "All I ask is that you pay me the same courtesy."

"When do you do this?"

"As often as you _fuck_." And he fucked often, despite his own collected demeanor.

"Is that what you want," Haldir asked her caustically, "to _fuck_?"

Galadriel released his arm and scoffed disappointedly. "Oh, Haldir." Reclining back on the marble bench, she propped her elbows along its backing and chuckled darkly, "I hunger for more," she said. "I hunger for danger."


	3. Chapter 3

Lord Elrond's laughter spilled in such abundance that it bounced off the high ceilings of his private study and made the little collection of glass baubles rattle within the display behind him, "And you told her to take the matter up with her husband, did you?"

"Yes," Haldir said simply. "It was not only moral, but also ethical given my relationship with Celeborn. I could never betray him by engaging in such matters with his wife."

"Not ever, Haldir?"

"Of course not," the blonde narrowed his eyes. "I may not practice such fidelity in light of my many lovers, but I do not pretend to fornicate with them and then proudly return home to a wife."

"Of course, forgive me. I did not intend to question your character, Marchwarden." Being a long time friend to the Lord and Lady of The Wood, Lord Elrond was all too aware of his tendency to become overly submersed in his work and her desire to break from the sexual routine that resulted. Given how severely such wanton desire becomes evident in her mood, dress, and behavior, and its potential to become all consuming within a short period, Haldir's desire to preserve his love and respect for Celeborn was indeed legitimate. The Lady was incessant and could be a fatal temptress. However, the need to be reacquainted with her husband was truly all it was. Elrond smiled, she had confessed it to him once several seasons ago and after a brief word with Celeborn all was _very_ well with the world again.

Haldir was far from amused. "You find these particular circumstances appealing, do you?"

"Certainly not, but I have relieved them both of a similar circumstance once before."

"What do you make of it now?"

Elrond thought for a moment to merely admit that he wasn't all too sure. "On the last occasion, Galadriel simply wanted Celeborn to take charge, as you have done many a time with your fleet on the eve of battle, and redefine her womanhood with every aspect that makes him male. However, this time…"

The Elder crossed the room and Haldir watched him precariously, "This time?"

"This time," Elrond turned away from the balcony and looked at him with a mysterious grin, "he hesitates."

"To what end?" Far too boggled for patience to remain a virtue, Haldir quirked a caustic brow and impatiently urged him for a more colorful explanation. "Quickly, the suspense is practically eating me away," he added, his signature sarcasm dripping from his lips.

"As his royal confidant and Marchwarden, prick, why don't you ask him yourself?" Swatting him with his quill on his way out, Elrond offered him no more until he could return to him with some decent manners. He feared it would be soon enough, for "if the future of The Wood rests in the hands of your impatience, Marchwarden, you'd better consider sleeping with her."


	4. Chapter 4

Celeborn watched his beloved wife closely from the shadows. Even in the poor light of the waning candles, she took his breath away. She appeared, wet. Her body glistening as she crossed the bedroom's threshold to gather the fluffy towel awaiting her atop their divan. She moved to take it, but her fingers never did touch the fabric.

Galadriel lifted her head and met his cool stare as his white figure cut through the darkness. He beckoned for her to abandon it and, "Come. Come here, wife."

"Are your intentions pure, husband?" she whispered, coming forward and wrapping her arms around the wide expanse of his shoulders. When he reached around and cupped her derriere and gave it a generous squeeze, she groaned lasciviously against his cheek. "Your touch has been greatly missed, Celeborn."

"It belongs to no one else." Reaching her shoulders, he continued upward until the fingers of one hand encircled the back of her neck. He squeezed tightly and forced her to look at him, "Can the same be said for you?"

Closing her eyes, Galadriel chose to focus on the pain and smiled. "What impertinent beasts men are… You alone seemed immune."

"I am true to only one woman; you, and yet I feel that you're heart no longer belongs to me." Celeborn released her and approached her gilded vanity, where she kept crystal bottles of pretty fragrances and embellishments wrapped in eggplant colored satin. Picking up a bundle, he unfolded the crisp creases to reveal a heavy crystal broach and eyed her from within the mirror. "Tell me, who bestowed upon you such a beautiful endowment?"

Galadriel's gaze narrowed. "You did."

"Oh." Tossing it carelessly on the table, he grabbed another and held it up without ever breaking her gaze, "And this one?"

"You did."

Bottles and jewelry toppled to the marble floors and shattered as he swept the table clean with one wide sweep of an arm. Celeborn surveyed the damage and turned to her without a hint of remorse, "The beauty of _things_, Galadriel, is how easily they can be replaced or discarded for new, more beautiful editions. A love like mine, however, is found only once and if carelessly discarded…never to be seen again." Sidestepping the remnants of moments spent together, he bid her a frosty good night and left her for his study. Moments later, a knock rippled through silence for which he left her and Galadriel opened the double doors to reveal his precious Marchwarden. It was at that moment that it all came into focus.

"Yes?" She purred darkly, pulling the door to a wider position to reveal just a bit more of her creamy flesh, or perhaps the cacophony behind her, to his studious gaze.

"My lady," he brushed past her and kneeling down, grabbed the defunct broach gingerly in one hand. Turning to her, he eyed her brusquely, "What happened?"

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, please. It was nothing." She casually lifted her hand to cut the air dismissively and there he noted the contrary.

Blood speckled the floor as she tried to hide it, but he grabbed her gruffly by the arm and forced her to show it to him. At the sight of the gash marring her beautiful palm, his demeanor softened and he shook his head. "How could he?"

"It was an accident, Haldir." She whispered in his defense, "It'll be all right now…"

"Accident or no, this is no way for a Lord to carry on in the presence of his Lady. I'll speak to him myself," he said. "You have my word, Galadriel."

"Very well, but address him tomorrow." Cradling her palm tenderly, she gestured for him to fetch a remedy from the bathing room as she poured them two glasses of her favorite wine. She smiled to herself, "You'll both need your rest for what awaits you."


	5. Chapter 5

Haldir retired to his talan half passed the midnight hour with her blood permanently staining his sleeve. Indeed, Celeborn never took well to betrayal, especially when it approached in the shape of a beautiful woman, his incredibly beautiful wife. Not even her sensual glow could withstand his cold shoulder.

In fact, he wasn't all too certain his loyalty could either. And yet, he never made promises he didn't intend on keeping. Stripping down to nothing, he quickly rinsed off the dirt and the grime and the blood from the day's events and climbed gratefully into bed. Celeborn came to him before the morning, and Haldir awoke to find his ocean eyes looking down upon his figure.

Startled, Haldir arose quickly.

"Shhh," Celeborn whispered, placing a lengthy finger against his puckered lips. "Pardon, I did not mean to startle you."

"Has something happened?"

"No, no," he said with a chuckle. "Although, I am curious to hear about the visit you had with my wife last night."

"After returning from Rivendell, I came searching for you and found her, wounded and alone, in a pile of broken memories. I provided aid as any royal Marchwarden would do, and defended your honor…as any Marchwarden would do."

"Did you?"

"Yes, despite your atrocious behavior." Taking his arm, Haldir pinned him down with a menacing stare. "I beg your pardon, my Lord, but the way you neglect your wife sickens me."

"If it troubles you so, why do you not take care of it?"

Haldir couldn't believe what he was hearing. In fact, he couldn't acknowledge it with more than a, "what?"

"She desires you. And I know you covet her."

Plagued with a short temper, Haldir swung up and struck him hard across the jaw. His body collapsed the floor, out cold, and Haldir slowly stood up. "Watch your mouth."

Carrying his limp, weighty body through the rain and up to his chambers was a nightmare worth experiencing. Especially after having slugged his ass clear to the following evening. "Tell me," Haldir asked as he hoisted his lifeless body onto the bed, "when did you become such-a-…prick!" It then occurred to him that Galadriel was nowhere in sight.

"I'm here…" Galadriel came to the foot of the bed and covered her silent gasp at the sight of him. His face was beginning to turn a fresh purple shade just below the chin and his handsome lower lip was bleeding and swollen.

Haldir ran his fingers through his wet hair and sighed. "He gave me no choice."

"You did this?"

"I did," Haldir said. Ripping a towel from a golden hook he patted his face and shoulders dry, anticipating her next inquiry. Luckily strategy and tact were his two strongest subjects.

Looking down at Celeborn thoughtfully, Galadriel turned to Haldir and shrugged. "He took to the cup again and passed out. It can be as simple as that. His memory will fail him as it always does when he drinks himself to such a stupor." She felt him approach and she flinched and looked up. "Haldir-!"

Haldir upturned her chin with two fingers carefully, for it was bruising intensely along with her bottom lip. He touched his thumb to it and she couldn't restrain a wince. It pained his heart to see her so broken.

"Haldir…" She placed her hand over his large one and smiled up at him despite the dramatics and shook her head. "I am not as fragile as I look."

Cradling her head between his warm palms, Haldir leant over and kissed her unharmed forehead soothingly, "Damn those who would put their hands on you or any other woman in anger. Damn them all."

"And yet you, loyal Marchwarden, deliver unto your Master such behavior so swiftly?" Galadriel's gaze briefly flitted to the pillow beside them where Celeborn rested his head, then turned back to him with a small smile adorning her pretty lips, "You are a wonder."

Haldir squared his shoulders, towering over her then as he did so and said, "I disservice myself with my attempts to ignore the same exact thing about you."

Pleased, Galadriel tempted him again by gazing up from behind her heavy canopy of blonde lashes. She paused to tuck a wet strand behind a pointed ear in the shape of a long, deliberate caress, and a frisson of hot electricity coursed through her as he made no move to restrain her.

The satisfaction that resulted from such verbal recognition assured her progress was in the making.

The nearness of their physical bodies became better known to him when a single step forward brought them to touch. "This Lady is without her reputable champion tonight. Will you kindly see her through till morning?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's WARNING: This installment contains graphic sexual content that may not be suitable for some readers. **Reader ****discretion ****is ****strongly ****advised.**_

Haldir awoke a second time several hours later, this time alone, and just before the distance swallowed up the pale rider. This left Celeborn equally baffled, like the fresh wounds on his face. Standing in the bathing room naked before the mirror, he pivoted to discover another behind his left shoulder.

Elrond examined it closely. "Are you certain these are not the result of-" Up came a brow and he finished rather delicately, "clumsiness?"

"No. The wound at my palm is mine. The rest were not meant for me."

"Well, not necessarily," he responded with a rueful smile.

"What'd you mean?" Galadriel refastened her gown and turned to face him. For a while he offered nothing, simply paced the vast floor of his library until he appeared to forget her altogether. "What is amiss, Lord Elrond?"

The perfection of her voice repurchased his attention and offering her his arm, they descended down below to correct the problem. By midday, when Celeborn sat to dine alone at a table meant for twenty, the changes would have already taken effect and not at all subtly.

"Join me, Haldir?"

Haldir met his gaze but avoided staring at the once again perfect chin, the lovely lip that no longer possessed his angry mark. "You look well."

"Thank you. Although I must admit I slept very little," he admitted. Smiling, he offered him a lovely peach. "Have one."

"You are fond of them. You keep it."

Celeborn smiled with the warmth of generosity and swiftly split it in two halves, one of which he placed on the empty plate before his ever stubborn Marchwarden. "What is mine is yours, friend."

"And… Lady Galadriel?"

Celeborn frowned, dropping the fruit. "Galadriel," he repeated. "I owe her an apology, among many other things." Both men stood thereafter as the topic of their present conversation appeared to contribute.

"Blessedly for you, husband, I am partial to grapes." Beaming beautifully, she came to his side and took the hand he held out for her. "Evening, my Lord." she whispered, gingerly kissing his cheek before turning to acknowledge Haldir. She too appeared miraculously unscathed.

Galadriel quirked a brow, "Dare you stare at me so boldly, Marchwarden?"

"Pardon, my Lady," he said, exchanging a fleeting glance with Celeborn before looking elsewhere. His Lord's curiosity quickly ceased as his Lady gently grasped his chin between two fingers and smiled. "Return to your post."

She was rather dismissive of him, the Marchwarden mused, despite how intimately she had conformed to the masculine cut of his body the previous evening.

"My Lord and Lady." Haldir acquiesced and upon hearing the door secure behind him, she invited Celeborn to return to his seat and perched herself on the table before him. Taking his half of the fuzzy fruit, Galadriel brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. It had been picked at the peak of freshness, she knew, because it smelled so lusciously sweet.

Celeborn reclined back in his grand seat and watched her closely. At that moment her sensuality alerted him more than ever before, like a blind man blessed with the gift of sight. And what a sight she was…. Her bodice was a rich mauve lined with silver trim, encasing her breasts beautifully while leaving her shoulders and back exposed. Her shortened skirt sprouted from beneath and was a translucent fabric of the same shade, displaying the creamy skin of her shapely thighs curiously.

Reclining back on one of her arms, Galadriel cocked her head to one side and met his heated stare with her own. "Have you eaten, husband?" she purred, running the ball of one foot along the soft fabric of his bedclothes covering his broad chest.

"No," he said. "I was waiting for you…" He ran his fingers along her calf and kissed the inner side of the dainty ankle he held, all while watching lust darken her expression. "I would wager you far sweeter than any fruit on Middle Earth," he whispered.

Spreading her legs widely apart, Celeborn draped his napkin across his lap and she smirked wily. "Why wager," she asked, "when you can know for certain?"

Celeborn poised himself before her flaxen mound and she flushed. With the anticipation of his velvety appendage coaxing carnal desire to suspend all sanity, he smiled up at her and nodded, "Indeed."

The moment his lips touched hers, sweat broke out against his temple, shoulders, chest and thighs as he also groaned against the heat that scalded her. Her lips parted and his name escaped them both simultaneously.

"Celeborn…"

He tossed to one side, the silk sheets of his divan sliding down his flushed limbs and bearing his delicate condition to anyone who'd hear him yearning. With wide, open palms she reached up and slowly removed the dainty ties of her bodice one by one. As it slipped away, so did the fabric of the negligible little skirt, leaving her fully naked atop his lavish dining table. Celeborn lifted his head, his electric blue gaze flickering carnally along her long, slender figure, engrossed by her pink mouth, freckled shoulders, flaring hips…

The weight of his lingering stare made him blush, but Galadriel smiled and closed her eyes and cupped her glowing breasts in her warm palms. Bringing her nipples to attention, she released them and opened her eyes to look at him. It was a stare so brazen that it kindled his all the more. "Put your hands on me, Celeborn."

"Please," Haldir exhaled, reaching up into the darkness for him. "Take me…"

Galadriel touched her tongue to her sneering upper lip, the slender fingers of her outstretched hand beckoning him seductively, "Fuck me."

Long platinum hair spilled across the span of the richly lacquered wood as he bent her body over it, pinned her cheek to it with a wild thrust of his hips against the fullness of her sweet backside. The sensation of his intrusion brought her to the very tips of her toes, and once he was fully seated, she angled her hips and invited him to do it again. He did; an unhurried and deliberate rhythm that with every thrust would bring him closer to unleashing the demon waiting patiently for his turn.

Wanton and impatient, she quickened him with the shameful and yet utterly delicious sound of a woman imprisoned by the prospect of fucking, of being fucked by a man as inexorable and unforgiving as he could be. The memory of his charismatic elegance on the eve of battles won made Haldir's flesh texture lustfully, the glorious and lonely member between his legs quivering painfully for the same deliverance. Haldir rolled over. The sting prickled into his lower belly.

"Please…" She moaned, placing herself at arm's length with the gilded edge of the table that threatened to slice her through. "Face me now. I want to look at you."

Twisting her body around, she ripped away the rest of his disheveled robe as he lifted her up by the buttocks and down against his rigidness. Despite this particular position and how it made her swoon, he reinforced her desire by firmly wrapping her legs around him and biting down on her beautiful lower lip. "I want to look at you, I said, because I want to see this face contort with pleasurable agony." He passed his hand along the length of her oval countenance in a brief moment of serene admiration before he pierced through her wet, silky hole with his hot iron rod.

Haldir cried up towards the heavens and her sweet, choral song filled the hall in long passionate strands. They ceased only when her throat was raw and dry and her womb flooded with her virile husband's…_love_. Galadriel fell limp into Celeborn's embrace in post-orgasmic euphoria and gently he laid her atop the sweat dappled table and carefully pulled out.

The Guardian gasped. With the absence of having him fulfill her returned a physical emptiness that Galadriel could not, to this very day in her life and marriage, fathom without a pout of disenchantment. Turning on her side, she propped her head up and gazed over at Celeborn who had quietly been looking down at her for some time. In the dwindling firelight her skin appeared kissed by the sun, and with the added flush of their exertions and remnants of semen glazing her thighs she was unspeakably decadent.

Galadriel watched in uninterrupted wonder as Celeborn's cock slowly lifted and became taught and colored with blood and desire. "How extraordinary…" she breathed, her cerulean eyes never leaving it as she slid off the tabletop and onto her hands and knees.

"Come. Have a closer look."

"I believe I will," she purred, slowly crawling over toward him and nuzzling her way up along one of his smooth, toned gams until she was on her knees before him. Her velvety lips plucked a kiss from his crown and it twitched, lightly returning the gesture to her pretty chin.

Celeborn chuckled and quirked a licentious brow, "I think he likes you…" Watching as her fingers wound around the base, he made a sound as desperate and raw as his neglected sex.

"And now?"

Forcing his eyes open, Haldir followed the length of his rippling body and met with her fiery gaze. The warmth of her hand permeated his raging cock with every torturous moment they spent unmoving.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Please take a moment to re-read **Chapter 6**; it has been added to and completed. _

Lord Celeborn awoke to the soft murmur of the wind tousling his mussed hair against his perspiring brow. It cooled the still burning remains of his compromised resolve.

It carried the scent of their imminent arrival.

They indeed would provide the succor he could not, or perhaps, she would not allow herself to realize he would more than willingly bestow upon the now ailing Marchwarden. She only failed to…ask. Such a hitch in the Lady's plan had decadent potential for quite a farce.

Celeborn smiled ruefully. It would be difficult to harness the bestial part of his soul that now inspired him to act. Slipping into the early morning twilight fashioning only a robe, he crossed the dewy gardens like the fleeting spirit of those damned until he reached the foot of the Marchwarden's bed. Unlike when he previously visited, Haldir remained undisturbed by his presence even has he sat down beside his now still figure. The scent of his sex tickled his nose and he smiled at the scarlet strand of his visitor's hair beside him on the pillow.

Filling the tub quietly in the next room, Celeborn submersed himself quietly until the fragrant bubbles touched his chin and watched the candlelight play on the prominent features of Haldir's sated face. Blessed with a beautiful wife and a beautiful Guardian in the same lifetime was more than be believed himself to deserve, and yet the hunger to have them both in the same manner became more prominent with each passing day. What compromised his constitution so? Was it she? And if so, was her time so empty? Or was it organic, another godsend for which he must learn to give thanks for as well and question no longer?

Anchoring himself above the bubbly surface with two strong arms along the porcelain rim of the tub, Celeborn leant his head back and expelled the tension through a long and deliberate sigh before he finally drifted. He drifted into a dreamless, soundless sleep, endowed with silverblond hair and an arctic stare that moved him nowhere near the same manner as the shock of icy water suddenly filling his lungs and flooding him with fear and confusion.

Panic forced him to react, his curses and shouts muted by the density of water, the struggle, the blood pounding in his quickly darkening head.

"Cel-!" Haldir bellowed, porcelain clamoring to the tile as he sent the tub toppling on its side. Celeborn's limp body slumped lifelessly to the wet below, and Haldir quickly gathered him up and in his arms wiped the hair from his face. "Celeborn," Haldir said again, gritting through the sunken sensation of death lingering nearby.

The Lord's normally pink, plump lips fell slack and Haldir found a morbid attraction to them even as they began to grey with the increasing absence of oxygen…

Even death failed to intimidate the unexplained that bonded them together.

Setting him gingerly down to the floor, Haldir took a deep breath and sealed his lips over his master's open ones and exhaled deeply. Celeborn's chest expanded beneath the palm of his hand gently resting against his quieting heart, and after three attempts at this to no avail, Haldir felt unfathomably distraught. "Dammit...!" In a rush of short tempered frustration, The Guardian slammed his fist down on Celeborn's chest and stumbled back as Celeborn's body suddenly surged to the side. Haldir watched him purge water until his face was violently flushed red with life, until air filled his lungs and he turned to regard him with a tiredly stare.

"H-Haldir…"

"Idiot!" Haldir slid forward and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Resting his chin against his matted hair and closing his eyes, he scoffed in relief. "How could you be so careless?"

A lethargic smile flowered across Celeborn's lips, "…cold, Marchwarden."

Mindful with his step, Haldir carried his naked body safely to bed and concealed him warmly with the blankets. "Perhaps some tea would-."

"No." Celeborn stopped him with a firm hand to the forearm. The scent on the pillow beneath his cheek was distinctly unique from that of Haldir, distinctly…masculine. "With whom?"

"What do you mean?"

Celeborn quirked a brow and his smile fully bloomed, "The redhead." Touching a hand to his forehead, Haldir found no escape in a probable fever. Celeborn pulled away from his reach to make room for him and gently instructed him to, "Climb in." Haldir obeyed, curling his arms warmly around him in the same manner his Lord's legs wrapped around his own.

"No one." Haldir stroked his hair absently in the comforting silence that followed until he dismissed it with an interesting question of his own. "What were you doing in my bathtub?"

Celeborn felt the truth bubbling just behind his lips, and yet he proved to be just as intimidated by it as Haldir. "Nothing…" he said, "nothing at all."


End file.
